


Raise a Glass

by TunnelScreamer



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Skeksis Feasting, hard workin' podlings, hungry skekAyuk, weak skekSo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunnelScreamer/pseuds/TunnelScreamer
Summary: This story takes place at the Castle of the Crystal after the events of AoR and before the movie. The Emperor is starting to show signs of decay and skekSil is scheming ...
Kudos: 11





	Raise a Glass

In a single file and robed in black, a procession of podlings walked through the halls of the Castle of the Crystal. The first held a lantern followed by another carrying a tray of chalices. Not far behind came more, carrying massive platters of food. They walked an unbent path as if all pulled by an invisible rope. But the pull was inside their own being, their spirits bound by the will of their captors, the Skeksis.

With pale heads bowed and unblinking eyes, they turned through an archway and into the grand banquet hall. The room was dark with no windows, only lantern light. It cast shadows on the faces of their overlords and glistened on the food. Echoing off the black stone walls was the shouting of jubilant Skeksis.

“Music!” one of them yelled over the others.

Hollow eyed musicians in a balcony began to play. The droning rhythm mixed with Skeksis voices. It did not sound like podling music but like slow thunder trapped in tin horns and drum skins. 

The low rumble pleased the diners who cheered the sound from their seats at the feast table. 

Then they added their own percussion. Their meals were the instrument with shells and tiny bones cracking and snapping in gnashing teeth. Long spiraling sinews of meat twisted round clanking forks, disappearing into slurping jaws. A groan of delight came from the Gourmand as he pushed his nose into a bowl of worming morsels. Defensively they released a spray of venom. The tang of their desperation was pleasing to the pallet and with a cupped claw he led them into his open mouth, finishing with a burp. 

The decadent feast held the attention of the other Skeksis, but skekSil had his eyes on the Emperor. He grinned, glad to be seated by his side.

A charred tentacle sat on a plate before the great ruler. He struggled to sink a knife into the meat. The dead thing remained defiantly, not yielding to the all powerful emperor’s blade. 

“Ahh, please,” skekSil whined, “let me.” And reached over to offer assistance with cutting skekSo’s food. 

“Arghrrr, No!” the Emperor growled, shoving away the Chamberlain’s crimson sleeve. 

Slamming the knife to the table, skekSo grabbed up the meat and began tearing at it with his beak. 

Unbothered, skekSil leaned back and tilted his head. It was a weak display of rage. Lately some mysterious ailment had enfeebled skekSo. It was strange seeing the Emperor in such a state. SkekSil watched him struggle as he chewed. Then turned his head to view others at the table. 

What would they do if skekSo continued to decline? 

There were few worthy rivals and many pieces on the board. For a wise Skeksis like the Chamberlain each could be easily moved. Cleared away to make a path to power.

The Skeksis who were new to the castle had their roles. Any aspirations they might have could be quickly dashed. The Garthim Master and Slave Master may rule their charges but, in a way, were also ruled by them, and ever occupied with inferior creatures. The Emperor would not put trust in those who spent their days with filthy slaves and monsters. 

SkekSil remained the most civilized of their rank, a Skeksis cunning and worthy. Should the claw that holds the scepter weaken, its grip fade and fail, none would be better to take it up than loyal skekSil.

_ Mmmmmmmm _ , a giddy whine escaped his beak.

Then a dirty podling hand placed a chalice before him. The servant moved on, placing one before each of the Skeksis. Claws all around eagerly grasped at the cups. 

And, as if he had willed it, an opportunity presented itself.

“Waiit!!”

All raised their beaks at the Chamberlain’s outburst.

“This is special meal, yes? Must say a few words,” he looked to his side as he rose from his seat. “I’m sure Emperor agrees.” 

“Hm?” skekSo replied, having not yet swallowed his first bite of meat.

“This day, and so many days before, Garthim have captured no gelfling. Is clear, quite clear, none remain! These most vile creatures have been eradicated from our world. Today we drink podling essence and celebrate gelfling annihilation!” 

SkekSil raised the chalice. He posed belly puffed forward, chin jutting out proudly. The posture of a leader. 

“Our reign will be unending! Our power unmatched! We drink to magnificent victory, to our brilliance and our Emperor!”

“Are you finished?!” skekUng snorted.

“Mmmmmm,” the Chamberlain sneered.

“To the Emperor’s eternal reign!” the Ritual Master shouted, raising his cup as he stood, neck outstretched to emphasize his height. 

The other Skeksis raised their chalices for barely a moment, then gulped down the essence. SkekSil never took his eyes off his rivals as he drank it down. 

The Ritual Master was a fool - so bitter, so desperate for power, sad. SkekSil had to be sure he would never have the Emperor’s trust. And skekUng, deceitful, disrespectful and foul, most ugly of Skeksis. He would pay for his interruption. 

Soon there were snickers and laughter as the essence kicked in. It was not crisp and clarifying like gelfling essence but mind muddling, more like a spirit. Still it gave them strength. 

For a moment, SkekSil had stood with power. Moments like these would build over time and plant ideas in minds which would grow into truth. Each show of strength was a step on his path to future glory. 

Then he heard the Emperor gasp and cough. Excitement cut through essence induced haze. SkekSil turned to face the sound.

“Drink slowly sire,” he said. 

The sound had been music to his ears. He saw each piece of his plan coming together. Later alone he would toast to himself, and his impending reign. The feast was such a fine night. He could nearly feel the weight of the scepter in his hand. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic for the Secret Santa 2020 and liked how it came out so I'm posting it here. Just a little skeksis drama and skekSil scheming. Thanks for reading!


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